9. Elodie

ELODIE

T onight is my first show as Stella, which is intimidating enough, but what’s worse is Kai, the bodyguard who never leaves Stella’s side, is also here. Why? I’m not sure, but my suspicion is that he’s going to report back to Stella and Rachel about how I perform.

I pace the dressing room, freaking out about what it all means, and the impending show, when my phone buzzes.

Rachel: Hunter will be in the VIP area tonight. You need to be seen with him after the show, to distract from the surgery tonight.

Me: A little warning would’ ve been nice.

Rachel: I’m not here to coddle you.

If Stella wasn’t having surgery tonight, I’d think Rachel is doing all this shit on purpose, to throw me off my game. There’s a knock on the dressing room door before Kai comes inside and sets a large bouquet of flowers, all in pinks, purples, and whites on the table and a box. “From Hunter,” he says before immediately leaving without hearing my thank you.

I open the box, and inside are neatly packed, individually wrapped peanut butter oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips inside. I’d eat one now if I wasn’t confident I would throw it up. Which means I won’t be able to enjoy these until later.

Hunter makes it impossible to not think about him. From the messages he writes every day, to the surprises he constantly sends me. So far, it’s all been desserts and flowers. Even though what’s between us is fake, I’ve never had a man be so thoughtful towards me. Is this what it’s like to have a boyfriend? The attention is intoxicating, addictive. I shoot him a quick thank-you text before my phone buzzes in my hand.

S: Good luck tonight. I know you’re going to do amazing.

Me: I should be the one wishing you luck. I’m not the one about to go into surgery.

S: I’ll be fine. I’m so proud of you. You can do this.

Stella’s proud of me? Warmth spreads through my body at her message, at the sentiment. Even if I haven’t done anything yet to be proud of. I’ve spent the last few weeks getting to know her, and turns out, she’s a genuinely amazing person and someone I could be best friends with. Like on the level of Nina best friend. She’s taken over a lot of my training in the past weeks, and I’m so grateful for her help, for basically holding my hand through this transition.

And now’s my chance to make her proud.

I drag in a strangled breath as one of the dancers behind me drapes a huge piece of fabric over me for my grand entrance. But I’m suffocating under this thing, counting down the seconds until it lifts off me. The intro music starts, and I wait for my cue.

Anticipation hangs heavy in the air, its embrace stifling. The edges of my vision go blurry, and a wave of dizziness washes over me as I hold on to the microphone in a death grip. Oh hell no will I be passing out on my first performance. Rachel will fire me faster than she can say my name if I do that. But more importantly, I want to prove I can do this and make Stella proud. I bite the inside of my cheek, the pain a welcome distraction.

I’ve got one shot at this thing, and I refuse to fuck it up. I pray to every god, star, and heaven I can think of to get through this show. The music swells, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Right on cue, the fabric lifts and I sing the first words of the song.

I keep my chin down and make sure to step on the correct place to catch the rising platform on the stage. After singing the first two lines, I look out into the audience. Stella is known to be playful and fun on stage and I can’t keep my head down the entire performance.

I try to picture myself as Stella, to embrace this entire experience and lose myself in the routine that’s been drilled into me over the past weeks. But every time I try to do that, I catch a glimpse of Kai on the sidelines, or Hunter in the VIP area, or the sea of phone lights from the audience, and I can’t manage.

Halfway through the fourth song, I miss my first mark and almost fall off the stage. I laugh it off and pretend there’s an issue with my shoe. The fans cheer for me, as if telling me it’s okay. They even cheer when I mess up the lyrics to one of Stella’s most popular songs. I can’t help but die a little inside with every mistake I make.

I rush backstage to change into my next outfit and Kai’s there, his face a blank mask. But I can tell he’s judging me.

“Any news?” I ask, referring to Stella’s surgery. The assistants backstage throw a long, purple dress over my head and they zip me into it. I have seconds to change before I need to be back on stage and at the piano.

“No,” Kai says, mouth in a flat line. He’s staring at his phone, as if willing it to update him on Stella’s condition.

“Why don’t you go to her?” I ask. “Take the plane?” I keep it vague, in case someone is listening in. Someone holds my hand as another person changes out my shoes. I need Kai gone, to not feel like I’m being weighed and measured during this thing. But most of all, he genuinely seems to care for Stella. She deserves to have people around her who care while she heals.

Kai’s eyes flash to mine, but he doesn’t say anything about my proposal as I’m pushed back toward the stage.

When I sit down at the piano for a slow song, it allows me a moment to catch my breath. This entire night has been a whirlwind, and I owe an apology to the fans for my performance. They’re paying a ton of money to be here and they’re not even getting a quality experience, not with my mistakes. I get now why Stella cares so much about her fans, and why she doesn’t want to let them down.

I need to do something to save the night. For them, for me, for Stella. So, I decide to be truthful, at least as much as I can be. Adjusting the microphone on the piano, I say, “Thank you, LA, for having me. I’m sorry for making some mistakes tonight, it’s just that I’m really nervous.” The fans cheer louder at my admission, and I continue, “There’s someone special in the audience tonight. I’m trying to impress him, and we all know how that’s going.” I huff out a self-deprecating laugh and the fans lose their ever-loving mind as they chant, “Hunter, Hunter, Hunter.”

“I’m going to slow things down and dedicate this one to Hunter.” I start the rendition of the song I sang on TikTok. The one that started this whole thing. It was Stella’s idea to add this to the set list and I’m so glad she suggested it. It’s the one song I’m a thousand percent confident with since I’m the one who made this version.

It’s a song about finding love after heartbreak, but Stella sings it in a hopeful way with a beat that makes people want to dance. She sings as if the new love she finds is something better. But the way I sing it? The minor key I’ve changed it to makes it sound like the new love is ominous and has the potential to be destructive. It’s the kind of love that could ruin you in the best or in the worst of ways. Where you’ll be pushed to new limits, challenged, and transformed.

It's the kind I desire, but I’m not even sure if I believe it exists. I tear up as I sing it, and I hope the fans feel the emotion I’m pouring into it and can accept this apology to them .

When I finish, the crowd is thunderous. I take it all in, wipe the tears from my eyes, and wave. After that, the next two songs go smoothly. I hit every mark and every note drilled into me. During my next outfit change, Kai asks, “Were you serious? About the plane?”

“Of course.” I beg the heavens that he takes me up on my offer.

“But if I take the plane, that means you’ll have to spend the night here in LA.”

“So? Just get me a hotel room.” It makes more sense to stay here for the next three days of shows rather than fly back and forth across the country multiple times.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes,” I say. “Now go and let me know how she is.”

“I’ll arrange everything for you here. I… Thank you.”

I nod and am guided back to the stage. With Kai gone, I’ll be able to just focus on the fans and Hunter. Relief fills me and I’m finally able to relax enough to enjoy the rest of the show.

Performing is such an intoxicating experience. It’s like the boundary between the audience and me blurs, and we all become one, bound together by every note I sing. It’s a confession, a whispered secret, shared intimately with every heart that beats in unison in the crowd.

I get why Stella does this if this is the feeling she gets when she performs. The energy carries me through the rest of the show with ease. Not once do I pass out or throw up. All those hours of pain in bootcamp were worth it to feel this way and to make the fans happy. When the final note rings out, I exit the stage and Brian points me down a path to where Hunter is. I spot him, striding toward me with an intensity I’m starting to think is just who Hunter is. I run to him, making it dramatic for the people watching us, and he lifts me into his arms and twirls me around.

“You’re so fucking talented,” he says, setting me down and brushing his lips across mine. It’s a kiss that’s just for show as the weight of people videoing us presses into my back.

“Thank you,” I say, but I don’t believe his words. I might be proud of myself for making it through tonight, for pulling it off. But at the same time, I’m not Stella. I’m not talented like her, and he’s complimenting her. Not me.

Brian leads us back to my dressing room where I immediately head to shower off all the sweat matting my hair and coating my body. I thought I’d be exhausted, but, instead, I’m exhilarated. Energy buzzes through me as I get ready in the black crop top and black pants Rachel packed for me.

When Hunter sees me, he lets out a low whistle and rubs a hand over his mouth. “You’re magnificent.”

“And I love that you’re wearing jeggings again,” I say with a laugh .

“I broke them out for you since you loved them the first time.”

“I’m honored.” I’m not sure how it’s possible he can look hot in the black jeggings, but he does. It fits the bad-boy vibe he’s perfected. “Do you know the plan for tonight?”

“Apparently, there’s some bar on the Sunset Strip that caters to celebrities.”

Hunter flanks me, as well as multiple bodyguards, while we get into a black car. Everyone’s silent during the drive, but Hunter grabs my hand and holds it in his. Eventually, we pull up to…a hotel?

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“You’ll both be spending the night here,” Brian says. “Security is tight, and the bar is where you’ll go for your drink. Do you want to go to the room or bar first?”

“We’ll head to the bar first and then our room,” Hunter says confidently. It’s sexy that he’s taking charge, but it doesn’t escape my notice that he said room . Singular. I’m hoping it was a mistake and that we’ll be in separate rooms. Sure, we have this intense chemistry between us, but hooking up with him is a complication no one needs.

Hunter leads me through the bar with two of the bodyguards. It’s cozy, with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and small lamps on each table. Every table is taken except for the one reserved for us in the back corner. My bodyguards take their position near us and survey the room. There’s no VIP room for us tonight, not when we want to be photographed.

And photographed we are. Multiple people already have their phones out and pointed in our direction by the time we sit side by side in our seats.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” I say.

“Which part? The one where we’re forced to show our face here or share a room?”

“We’re sharing a room?” I scan his face, waiting for a smile or some hint that he’s joking.

“Is that a problem?”

I swallow down a mouthful of the champagne that just arrived. “No. Nope. Not at all.” How the hell am I going to handle this?

“You’re a shit liar.”

My laugh has a hysterical edge to it. If only he knew the half of what I’m lying about. “I know.”

“You were fantastic on stage.” He takes my hand in his. “Thanks for honoring me with a song.”

“I’m sure that’ll make Evren happy.”

“Did you do it for him?”

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“Yes.” It’s his turn to scan my face. “Yes, it does.”

I could lie and pretend I did it for the headlines that will result from this. But when I open my mouth, the words dry up. Instead, I tell him the truth. “I did it because it felt right. Because I wanted to.”

His gaze smolders with desire and he wraps a hand in my hair, pulling my face toward his. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“For the cameras?” I ask, needing to put some distance between us. I refuse to admit that I want his kiss. It’s safer to ignore this spark between us, especially when this is temporary. We're just playing a part, and I can't let myself get swept away by this, by him. He's not really mine, and I'm not really his. It’s all for show, and I can’t forget it.

A frown flashes across his face before he smooths it out. “Sure, for the cameras.”

I nod in agreement, and swift and sure, he closes the distance between us in the next heartbeat. My world narrows to the searing press of his lips against mine. The kiss isn’t a tentative question or a quick one that’s just for show. Instead, he goes off script and kisses me with an edge of desperation. Like a frantic search for…something. I gasp, and he slides his tongue between my lips, deepening the kiss.

His tongue brushes against mine, a slow, teasing exploration that sends goose bumps cascading down my body. Cupping my cheek with his hand, he traces his thumb down my jawline and neck. Shivers dance across my skin, igniting a fire that spreads outwards, consuming every corner of my awareness. I melt against him, drowning in the urgency of the kiss. Drowning in him.

I’m not sure if I’m falling apart or hurtling towards something magnificent, but all I crave is to be lost in the beautiful chaos he ignites within me.

He pulls away and kisses me softly once, twice. “There, those photos should make Jax jealous.”

I stiffen at the reminder, a chilly emptiness washing through me. Of course, he only kissed me like that to make Jax jealous. It’s what I wanted, what I asked of him, but it felt real. He’s an amazing actor since I can’t tell where the line between real and fake begins or ends. It’s all moving too fast for me to keep up with.

“I’m tired,” I say. “Let’s go back to the room?”

He doesn’t ask if I’m sure or make a fuss that his drink is untouched. Instead, he takes my hand in his and guides me to the room. Once we’re inside, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “It’s just the adrenaline crash from the show.” I need to put some distance between us, to guard my heart. I like Hunter and that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. He’s just after his contract extension, this is a business transaction, and I shouldn’t forget it. With that in mind, physical distance will help me redraw the boundary between us. Striding toward the bedroom—the only one because the universe hates me—I grab his duffle bag from the corner.

He immediately takes it from my hands, and I gently nudge him toward the door of the bedroom. He follows without question. I push him a little further into the living room before smiling and saying, “Goodnight. ”

I shut the bedroom door on him, which is basically just two glass doors with a gauzy curtain on them.

“What’s this?” he asks, laughing through the door.

“I’m going to bed. Alone.”

“Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

I snort to cover that very real concern. “Not at all.”

“You’re missing out. This couch is like a cloud.”

I grin, surprised he’s not upset about this turn of events. That he’s respecting my desire for alone time.

“And,” he calls out, “the best part? I get the bathroom.”

No, that can’t be. I spin around the room, from the window to the closet and that’s it. Oh shit.

“Maybe I didn’t plan this properly,” I rush to say.

“Oh, I think you planned it perfectly.”

“But what if I need to pee?” Which my bladder oh so kindly reminds me that I need to go. Now.

“Then I guess you’ll have to barter with me.”

“And what do you want?”

“Something small. Just a few answers to some questions.”

“Only if I get that in return,” I say.

“Deal.”

I whip the door open and throw a pillow and a blanket at him before storming to the bathroom. His laughter chases me inside and I’m grinning like a fool while I wash off my makeup and get in my PJs. It’s the one thing I brought from home for the tour. My long, oversized shirt that’s worn and soft and falls to my knees.

“Sleep well,” I say as I pass him.

“You too, beautiful.”

I duck my head to hide my smile and shut myself into the bedroom again. My phone rings just as I get into the bed. Hunter.

“What’s up?” I ask. “The couch lumpy after all?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because I thought you could tell me a bedtime story.”

“What kind of story?” I ask.

“One that tells me about your life.”

“Hard pass. How about you tell me yours instead?”

“Do I need to remind you that you agreed to answer some questions?”

“Ugh, fine,” I say. “What do you want to know?”

“Who’s your best friend?”

“Nina, a girl I grew up with, and…Aria Huntington.” It feels weird to say Aria’s name when I haven’t even met her. But she’s Stella’s best friend, so I have to include her. “What about you?”

“Easy, Quincy and Jake.”

“No one from your childhood?”

“Nope. I was a little shit who focused more on football than making friends.”

“It sounds like you didn’t grow up, then.”

“Hey now,” he says. “Those are fighting words. ”

“Uh-huh.” I grin, even though he can’t see it. “What about your parents? Are you close to them?”

“I don’t talk with my mom much since the divorce, but my dad and I are pretty close.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“Yeah,” he says. “My older brother wanted to live with her, and he’s Mr. Perfect in her eyes. I guess it worked out though, because Dad has always been supportive of me playing football.”

“Was your mom not supportive?”

“No, she never liked it. But I don’t know why, especially when my brother played baseball, and she was fine with that.”

I frown, not liking that his mom didn’t support his passion. Maybe it’s a good thing that she’s not in his life if she can’t appreciate him.

“What about you?” he asks. “Are you close to your parents?”

“I don’t like to talk about my family to protect them,” I hedge. Stella told me that’s why she hasn’t once commented about her parents. She has the belief that no one needs to know about them to like her music. I have a feeling they aren’t close, but I don’t know for sure.

“I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”

Shit. I’ve got to make a decision—do I tell him the truth or lie?

The thought of lying makes me nauseous. I’m already lying about so much. I don’t want to add another thing to it and have something else I have to remember. I also selfishly want to continue to get to know him, though God only knows why I want that.

“My mom and I are as close as close can be. But my dad? We used to be, but he cheated on my mom, and I couldn’t forgive him.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“No,” I say. “Not for the last six years. At first, he tried to contact me, but he gave up after he found a new family.”

“Six years is a long time…”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t deserve to have a relationship with me. I’m still holding a grudge against him for not trying harder to repair what he broke. I was the one left to care for Mom after—” I break off. Stella’s mom was never in a car accident. Stella never had to care for her while dealing with the fallout of her family being destroyed. I have to swallow back the truth and just leave it at, “He broke her heart and moved on to a new family within a few months and I was…forgotten. Months.” I choke on the word, wishing it never existed. I take a shaky breath, trying to compose myself, but it doesn’t work. “Months is all it took for years of a relationship to disappear as if it never existed in the first place.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The blanket rustles as he moves around on his couch. “Your dad is an ass for doing that to you. You’re someone who is unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. Am I really unforgettable? It doesn’t feel that way if my own father could leave me so easily. I cover my eyes with my hand, trying to push the tears back into my eyes. But it’s a useless endeavor because they fall anyway. “Tell me something funny,” I plead with him. “I don’t want to go to sleep sad.”

More rustling, then a knock at the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds like you need a hug.”

“Fine,” I whisper.

He comes in wearing only a pair of sweatpants, slung low on his chiseled hips. He’s at my side in an instant and pulls me into his arms and gives me the best hug I’ve ever had. I always thought Mom’s hugs were the best, but Hunter’s? They’re on another level. Comforting. Strong. Safe. But at the same time, there’s a charged undercurrent that races beneath my skin. It’s like the hug is a declaration of intent, and an awful lot like coming home to a place I never knew existed but was missing my entire life.

After endless minutes, he finally pulls away and lays me back down onto the bed, bringing the covers up to my chin. He lies on top of the covers and turns to face me.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he says.

“I don’t know…”

“I promise, he doesn’t.” He lightly brushes some hair from my face. “And to answer your question, all pants suck when you’re hard. Even jeggings or maybe especially jeggings.”

I give him a watery laugh. “Mystery solved.”

“Speaking of mysteries, do you know how one sock always goes missing in the laundry? Well, some famous physicists reason that a spontaneous black hole is the cause.” I snort and he nods seriously before going on to tell me more ridiculous theories until I fall asleep with a smile on my face and Hunter next to me.